


Hell Fire

by Hawkens



Series: Survivor Behind Bars [1]
Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Bottom Erik, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Erik has Feelings, Erik is not a Happy Bunny, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Poor Erik, Rape/Non-con Elements, Tags May Change, Telepathic Bond, Telepathy, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-05 20:24:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1831105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hawkens/pseuds/Hawkens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for an X-Men First Kink Prompt </p><p>Erik is in prison for a crime he does not commit. Erik misses Charles. Erik is proud. Some prison guards do not appreciate this. Bad things happen. Erik needs Charles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is going to be quite long, hope that is okay. I've heard the only way to get rid of plot bunnies is to let them run their course!
> 
> WARNINGS : Abuse, Dub-con, Non-con, Homophobia, Racism - also mentions of perceived (but not actual) bestiality and incest.

There really isn’t much that anyone could have ever said positively about prison, but for the first several months of his incarceration Erik had to admit it was actually better than he thought it would be. He supposed that was one form of benefit of being both a mutant and accused of killing the President. Everyone - even guards, were too terrified of you to want to risk messing with you.

Of course he loathed to be cut off from his cause - he wondered just how his team was faring without him. As dedicated as they all were, he was the one that brought them together. He was the one who honed their rage. He was the one - the only one - who could lead them, as his defeat of Shaw had proven to them.

There were other downsides to prison other than confinement. Their idea of food had to be some sort of joke, he was not allowed time for exercise as other prisoners did, and everything he did was observed by guards whose sole purpose in life seemed to be trying to intimidate him.

“That’s him, the Heeb. He doesn’t look so tough now though does he?”

Of course, speak of the devils. Erik didn’t bat an eye at the slur. Didn’t they understand what kind of child’s play this was? Lock him away and call him names? Really, this was a vacation compared to where he had been before. So it was he continued to look at his food, eating the mush slowly as he listened - not like there was anything else to do.

“I can’t believe the warden is putting up with this shit. Look at him sitting there happy as can fucking be having killed the best person that ever happened to this country.”

Erik saw the second man out of the corner of his eye. He was shrugging and rubbing the back of his neck. “What do you want me to do about it, Rob? The guy is caught, whatever happens to him now…it’s in the hands of the justice system.”

“The JUSTICE system?” The first man, Rob, snapped so suddenly and loudly it caused Erik to look over at him. Meeting his eyes, Erik realized he couldn’t look away so he stared resolutely, proudly, at the man - not ashamed to show he’d be eavesdropping. Apparently Rob was no more ashamed of his words as he continued. “What kind of justice is this, look at him, he doesn't care about a damn thing. Happy to live out the rest of his pathetic as fuck life here, being taken care of on the tax payer's dime.”

The second man seemed about to say something but Erik turned back to his food, breaking eye contact. They weren’t even worthy of paying attention to. They had nothing and were nothing more than yet another example of how pathetic humanity can be.

“Don’t turn your fucking back on me, Heeb! I can tell you fucking aren't even from America! Of course Christ killer who went and killed our President had even less right. You are the fucking worst kind of scum. You know this is gonna be your life from now on, yeah? No more sucking your momma’s tits or bending over to take it up the ass from the farms goat, you’re here. Until we shock the shit out of your worthless body. You should be fucking tortured for information or for punishment. Anything, something, more than just left here. You should be begging us for death, not happily enjoying a meal you‘d probably be too fucking poor to get any other way!”

When Erik continued to ignore the man he evidently did not appreciate it. The next thing Erik knew the door to his cell was thrown open both men entering, though the second more reluctantly than the first.

He had only managed to begin to stand when he felt the man's brutish hand at his throat, squeezing. Sucking in the last reserves of breath by instinct, Erik felt the rage and fighting instinct fill him.

The difference is, he is not a mindless animal. Clearly the best thing to do in his position is nothing.

"What is that? Not so proud now, are you? Fucking scum. Going to take it all from you, take it now. Squirm boy, come on."

As Erik finally lifted his eyes to the man, he could see the rising satisfaction in the man’s face. Instead Erik’s eyes flickered past him to where another man was walking forward with a scowl. A man with far more bars on his uniform shirt. This man rushed over and handily pulled the guard off Erik. At once Erik gasped for air, the spots that were slowly forming disappearing from his eyes. Slowly smirking, Erik replied, “I. Don't. Squirm." Erik coughed out, still catching his breath. Still even as the man was led out of his cell he couldn't help but add "Enjoy being punished yourself for that…Siiir.” 

Turning back to his food, Erik resolutely ignored all the following yelling from the guards. It was of little consequence. He knew he wouldn’t be here long. Obviously that guard was a low ranking mindless animal anti-Semite. His bizarre references to incest and bestiality proved that well enough. One of his followers would come for him, eventually. Or Charles…

Letting out a low breath Erik closed his eyes _Charles Charles Charles where ever you are, whatever you may think if you let me in I can explain. I didn’t kill him, I’d never want to harm him, he was one of us, I wanted to protect him. Charles let me explain at least even if you don’t want to help I need you to know. That’s not who I am._

Of course he did not feel the familiar brush against his mind, but he knew he would never stop trying. 

******

Robert Bartholomew Kaufmann was not a man to be made a fool.

He had lost his cool that day with the filthy Jew man and he knew that. He had apologized and gone through all the proper channels, followed the judges orders in reference to proper protocol when interacting with prisoners. It was the lawyers that made this country so damn weak, requiring him to made nice and shake hands with all the other Jews and Coons he came into contact with.

And even still it took him over a year to get back the position he was in before. But that wasn’t enough. Men used to look at him with fear and respect. Now it was more disgust, dislike, or - even worse - pity. They fucking _pitied_ him.

There were no words or amount of work that Robert could do to build himself back up. There was only one thing for it. He _had_ to take the mutant down.

It would be difficult, that was clear to him immediately. The deformed human was clearly proud, not that Robert could see what he was so very proud of, being a murderer. Robert may be Christian, he may know that he too is a sinner, but to him some sins are beyond forgiveness. Losing your temper due to the injustices of the world was such a small thing compared to the price he had to pay. Whereas the Jewish mutant prisoner was clearly guilty of so many, so many beyond redemption that murder was just the tip of the iceberg. Yet there he sat in his isolated palace.

There was also the…reaction he caused. When Robert had first been assigned to him, he knew immediately that something was wrong. The man really was the devil incarnate, nothing else could explain why he felt what he felt when he looked at him, naked in the shower.

The image still burned into his brain like fire. It surprised and disgusted Robert to see his body reacting in such a way. Even now, thinking about it, he can feel his cock slowly stiffening. It was the cause of everything. Everything Robert had been through, it was the mutant’s fault. The murderous, egotistical, temptous man who should be nothing more than a slave.

Sliding one hand into his pants, Robert allowed himself the moment of pleasure, safe at home. Thinking of the future, of his revenge. Of that horrid excuse for a person _made_ to cower before him.

It would be just another few months. Robert could do that, he could wait that long. Robert was a patient man. After all the waiting made the indulgence that much better.


	2. Time Passes

On the one year anniversary of the Kennedy assassination, Erik thought, actually fully believed, that he would be freed. Not from the corrupt assuming justice system of course (even if they did find him innocent, that would take years after all), no. But some small part of him really honestly thought that _someone_ would miss him. That someone would come after him.

As the days, weeks and months passed by Erik began to realize that he was maybe not as loved as he previously thought.

 _No not loved, of course not_ Erik corrected himself with a low sigh. _Much more important than that. Needed. The leader of the cause. But…they must have found someone else? They wouldn’t just abandon it. They wouldn’t just abandon themselves, each other, would they?_

Doubt gnawed at him.

Several nights a month he would jerk awake in a cold sweat absolutely certain he had felt the tentative presence of Charles in his mind. But more and more he knew that they must have only been in dreams, or memories. Every time he felt it he called out to him and was only answered by silence and the sensation receding once more.

Each time that happened he would reach out for metal, instinctively, only to be reminded again and again of the type of prison he was in. Bitterly he wondered how humans would feel if they were deprived of one of their senses for…how long had he been imprisoned? He was beginning to lose all sense of time, it _felt_ like forever but it couldn’t have been that long, could it?

At this point, he honestly would have killed (in a manner of speaking) to even just know any kind of current events. The little he knew he gleaned from eavesdropping on guards or when they attempted to taunt him. Apparently the President that took over for Kennedy won office again, something the guards apparently thought would piss him off.

It didn’t. And neither did the black man who spoke at a civil rights rally which was apparently well covered by the media, though it seemed to infuriate them. More knowledge he’d learned from eavesdropping and while he was mostly detached about it, some small part of him was pleased. Whatever pissed off the abusive masses the most could only be a good thing.

Still, it was not the knowledge he was interested in. What he wanted to know was _what_ was the Brotherhood doing without him. What strides were being made to advance _mutants_ and their cause? Civil rights for others were great but where was the outrage and the outcry about mutant rights? Were the guards simply keeping news about it from him, knowing how much he wanted to know? Or was there really _nothing_ going on.

Closing his eyes, Erik lay on his small cot and quieted his breathing as much as he could. When he did so he could just barely make out the words of the guards conversing just beyond his cell. Brow furrowed he focused until he could make out…

“-him. Right crazy…gotta admit…persistent…point. He really…at least, that’s what they say.”

“Fuck it’s…gonna learn to stand on our own…police of the world.”

Bits and pieces were all Erik could make out, it was enough to drive him mad. Finally, he could hear them moving closer and could more fully make our their words.

“-son is almost eight teen but there’s no way I’m letting him caught up in that. I told him, no shame it heading north. If I was him, that young, there is no way I’d die for that.”

“You have a point. I’ve understood wars in the past but there is no reason this time, just pulling our kids away from their lives for what?”

“Exactly. If I’d gotten a card I’d have gone too and burned the hell out of it. Show those fuckers-”

“Jim. Shiela’d be pissed if she heard you saying shit like that. Remember, we’re near the _sensitive_ mutant. Do I have to remind you what happened to Robby thanks to this scum?”

“Shit, don’t bring my wife into this. Anyway I’m just saying it’s 66, we’re more progressive than that, shouldn’t be able to draft people this is America for Chris’ sake.”

Numbly, Erik opened his eyes at that, barely even aware of the tray sliding into his cell. Or of the retreating footsteps, the voices still bickering at each other.

 _66\. 1966. It…it is 1966_ Erik couldn’t get over it. It had really been three years. Three long years without even a word from _anyone_ , never mind the two _telepathic_ people he knows.

Three years life had passed Erik by. For the first time since…since the camps, Erik felt a deep and sharp pang of worthlessness.

Perhaps no one would care to come for him after all.

******

“You understand why we are hesitant to grant you this position again, are you not, Mr. Kaufmann?” An elderly officer, probably close to 80 and likely sympathetic asks him not unkindly.

“Of course I understand completely and I respect it.” Robert replies smoothly with a deep nod of his head. The officer answered that with a slight nod of his own and Robert quickly went on. “I am only asking for the chance to make up for my past indiscretions.”

“My client has an exemplary record both prior to and after the incident in question.” Robet’s lawyer interjected. Immediately Robert wished he hadn’t as one of the other officers gave him a distasteful look. 

Clearly, Robert could see that he didn’t believe disciplinary hearings, nor job advancement interviews, required a lawyer. So he knew what he was going to say before he began to speak. “Be that as it may, we reserve the right to make our own calls when it comes to our employees, and I do not see the need to force this issue. If Robert is succeeding so well with the high security prisoners I see no need to move him back to the Pentagon division.”

Ignoring his words, Robert instead focused on the cross the elderly man was wearing prominently around his neck. Schooling his face into a modest expression, Robert nodded again. “Of course. And I understand completely if that is your ruling. It is just…” he pretended to be at a loss of words before smiling softly. 

“If I may, Sirs, I am a religious man. And I know I have wronged that specific prisoner. I understand he comes from a…troubled background. And I feel I may be able to help him. Or at the very least earn his forgiveness.” It almost physically hurt to say the next words but Robert forced himself to go on, “I owe it to him for having treated him in the way I did. I, at the very least, owe him an apology.”

Robert could feel them sizing him up and he tried his best to keep his earnest expression. Just barely, he managed to suppress a satisfied smirk when the younger officer rubbed his forehead with a sigh and nodded to the elderly man with a wave of his hand.

“It remains to be seen, young man, if you are fit to regain your position at the Pentagon. You understand the kind of security checks and paperwork that requires.” The pause was so long here Robert had to bite his tongue to stop himself from snapping that _yes_ obviously he does having worked there for years prior.

But he was glad he managed to keep himself composed when the officer smiled kindly at him. “But I certainly see no reason for you to at least start a lower level rotation at the Pentagon. Maybe if you show your true remorse to the officers there they will be able to reinstate you fully.”

Allowing his representative/lawyer/friend to close out the meeting, Robert managed to give the officer a faint smile. It wasn’t everything he wanted and it was taking a lot longer than he had expected it to, but Robert was getting there. 

It was now his goal to impress his former coworkers and he was confident in his ability to do so. _Almost there. And this time I know what I’m getting myself into, I won’t blow it._

******

Five months in and Robert was already making considerable progress. He had expected it would be smoother from here - these men knew him as himself not by his reputation. They were friends of a sort, mostly like minded individuals. Easy to impress.

He knew it was not his opinions of the Jew that had caused the problem, nor was it even the way he had treated him. It was the bureaucracy of the world today, everyone was so concerned with _equality_ and _rights_ when the fact of the matter is people aren’t equal. They never have been. Some are better than others - smarter, faster, stronger. And no amount of crying about it is ever going to change that.

Still Robert knows he is a Federal employee and he should not have lost control. Should not have allowed the scum to get under his skin and provoke that kind of reaction right there for all to see.

But he is older and wiser now. He knows how to play the game, he knows how to take control and he knows how to keep it.

“That is one of the first things I’m going to show you…” Robert spoke to the image in a newspaper hanging on the wall of his bedroom. It was of a man, unconscious, being escorted into a police car, metal handcuffs uselessly melted apart but still hanging off his wrists.

In a way what he could do was fascinating. If only that kind of power was given to someone more worthy - imagine all that could be done with it. It had possibilities and Robert briefly entertained the thought as he studied the image of the man. 

The photograph was one of few the media released in regards to the assassination, many people still in doubt over what had truly happened. It seemed pretty clear to Robert though, the bullet curved, something that would have been impossible but for the man’s strange abilities.

Before he could stop himself, Robert began to wonder if the man found metal pleasing to move, pleasing to touch. _Sick freak probably has a metal piercing, maybe more than one._ Robert sneered though he found himself…enjoying that thought. 

_Probably has one right on his penis…nipples too…bet for fun he’d shove some up his ass too, metal bat. Can see that, moaning and thrusting like an animal in heat, like a bitch for more. Body squeezing around it, I bet he so fucking loses it like a cunt._

Slowly, Robert realized that he had started to rub the front of his pants with his palm. Jerking his hand away as though burned he grit his teeth against the feel of his now painfully hard erection. Furious, he glared at the picture of the man with long dark eye lashes and a body he just wanted to-

 _Beat. For being worse than pond scum._ Robert tore down the newspaper, balled it up and threw it at the wall. _Fucking devil fuck fuck, I won’t be fucking led there. Not a fucking fag._

Breathing heavily, Robert sat down on the edge of his bed, angrily working his pants and underwear off, gasping softly as his dick is freed. Resolutely he wrapped his hand around himself and closed his eyes, jerking hard and fast, swearing to himself he would make the disgusting Jew pay for being so sexually immoral and corrupting.

Only next time he didn’t plan on losing control…in front of others.


	3. Just A Rat In A Cage

Once Erik had discovered how much time had passed he realized something about himself. He had become soft. Weak. He had allowed the attachments he had formed with his fellow mutants to change him fundamentally in the short time he spent with them.

Not since he was a child had he ever hoped and prayed to be _rescued_. He really should have known better. It didn’t work for him then and it wasn’t going to work for him now. All this time, all these _years_ he had wasted, thinking someone was coming for him.

It was clear now that that wasn’t going to happen. Instead of despairing about it, Erik did what he always did. He used it to make himself stronger. So Mystique, Emma, Azazel, Angel and Riptide weren’t coming for him? So what. He did not need them, he did not need-

_**Charles** _

He _especially_ did not need Charles.

The fact that it would’ve been so _easy_ for Charles, Emma or especially Azazel to get him out made it all the more clear. 

He was on his own. Right then and there he made an oath to himself. He would never depend on anyone else, ever again.

So he redoubled his efforts to keep track of time, logging all the guards movements and actions in his mind for any patterns he could exploit. Or at the very least just to keep himself sane. He also took to meditating, though the idea terrified him at first. Opening himself up like that meant any telepaths would be able to enter his mind easily…if they cared to.

Snorting lowly to himself, Erik sat cross legged on the floor. Closing his eyes, he lifted his head and arms up and focused on slowing his breathing. There was no metal around, of course, but he could not, he _would not,_ believe that his talent was lost to him for forever.

It took him months, stretching into a year of continuing on with dogged determination for no reason other than pure force of will. He would _not_ die in here. He _would_ free himself, and humans wouldn’t live long enough to rue the day he did.

The more he focused and channeled deeply inside himself daily he began to sense the familiar thrum of metal oh so faintly, like a whisper in his mind. Relief hit him stronger than any emotion had in years as his eyes shot open.

Yes, there was hope. Erik would never give up.

******

On his first day back at the Pentagon, Robert could barely contain his enthusiasm. Naturally his coworkers chalked it up to him missing his job, or maybe even missing them. Whichever, he didn’t mind as they had no real idea. They couldn’t know how long he had waited and planned for this day. While it wasn’t back in his old post it was a huge step in the right direction.

Robert allowed his enthusiasm and eagerness to please and be helpful shine through to his bosses. Anything that needed to be done he was there, at any hour. If other employees weren’t feeling well they knew they could turn to him to pick up any extra rotations. He would drive out of his way to pick them up to car pool. He would even mentor anyone willing to listen on the nature of heaven and hell, the goodness of Mary and evils of the devil.

And when the first opportunity arose for food to be taken to the _special_ prisoner in front of him, Robert did not pipe up. Indeed, he had been expecting this to happen at some point and knew that he could not appear over eager. _No one can know_

That night he had jerked off hard to the thought of cumming all over the Jew’s food and him consuming it, non the wiser.

The weeks passed slowly and Robert realized the Jew had little contact with even the guards other than when he was fed and allowed down the hall for 15 minutes to shit and shower. The thought, unexpectedly, aroused him. It made him wonder how hot for it he must be with so much time in isolation. Robert himself can’t imagine going a few weeks let alone _years_ without sex.

Though Robert already had one plan in the works in regards to the murderer, he realized that in fact he had a much much better idea. From then on he made it a point to hang around near the cafeteria, willing to help in any capacity there may be, even when off shift, making friends with a few of the cooks over the guise of grabbing a bite to eat.

After all he needed his entertainment even when he was playing the good boy, right?

******

“You are really _that_ intimidated by me, are you?” Erik asked with a sneer to hide his unease as two guards installed a camera right outside his cell, pointed directly at him.

“There’s thoughts yer up to no good, boy.” The older heavyset man answered, “Can’t say I blame ‘em, as we don’t know enough about you lot. Could be up to anything, could be able to do more than we know, couldn’t ya?”

Erik opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by the second man who was still screwing in the camera. “We don’t get paid to talk to him, Stevens.”

Snorting, the older man waved his hand down at Erik, “Just telling ‘im we’re not stupid. He could be able to do that vortex shit out of his hands like that boy on the news did. Think of the shit that’d mess up, good thing they killed him instead of-”

“Stevens. _Quiet_. You know what Kaufmann said. Don’t. Give. Him. Anything.”

The two continued grumbling but Erik’s eyes were closed in private and silent grief for his comrade. _Riptide_

Rage burned brightly in him, causing him to clench his fists as he opened his eyes and turned away from the camera. Stiffly he walked to his cot, putting the guards out of his mind as he lay down. _I will avenge you, my brother,_ he promised mentally, _I swear it. I will not allow you to be forgotten. They will pay. They all will._

Once the guards left, Erik cautiously opened his eyes to stare at the camera. It did not make sense to him. Why would the guards now, after…what, four years? Why would they choose _now_ to place a camera directly on him in his cell. There were patrols and cameras right by and outside his cell of course but why the interest on watching him inside. Nothing had changed, had it?

But Erik knew something _had_ changed. His resolve. But there was no way they could know that. Unless…unless they had a telepath? But why would one of their own being working _with_ the government.

Of course Erik already knew of one who did. Who, in fact, probably still had close ties to the CIA…

 _No. Not Charles. He wouldn’t._ But even still…the thought worried him. It had been years, and Charles had seemed to have complete faith in Moria. Who knows what could have happened in the time he had been away.

That thought brought back a very old pain. _Jealousy_ Erik sighed, shaking his head to himself. It was an emotion as old as time, and one he had no cause to feel. Whatever Moria and Charles were…whatever they _are_ had nothing to do with him. It never did. As much as he may have once wish otherwise.

“Well aren’t you nostalgic today…” Erik muttered to himself as he heard the dinner workers bring his food tray. Resolutely he stayed silent as the tray slid into his cell and across the floor to hit against his ‘bed’.

Turning on his side, he looked at the mush distastefully before picking it up. He had to keep his strength up one way or another and if that meant eating gruel then so be it. Though, as Erik dipped his plastic fork in to what he supposed were meant to be mashed potatoes, he had to admit even this pathetic excuse for food tasted a little…odd today.

Even so he consumed almost all of it before lowering himself to sit on the floor and begin his meditations.

******

Several of his coworkers had been disgusted and disturbed by what had occurred in the Jew’s cell that night. 

Which of course suited Robert just fine. It meant that no one noticed him slip the recording of the events into his coat pocket as he leaned over to turn off the screen. Careful to keep his erection hidden, he had shaken his head and told them not to let the Jew win. That this was simply him trying to goad them into removing the camera.

As soon as Robert arrived home he crammed the tape into his brand new home VCR. He took a moment to thank God this technology even existed that could allow him to watch the nights events at home, whenever he wanted.

 _And to thank EJ for the Spanish Fly…_ he thought nastily to himself as he relaxed in his recliner, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. He was already half hard though he tried to ignore the events as they occurred. Now he planned to fully appreciate them.

It started with him eating. Pressing fast forward, Robert watched him speed eat, meditate some more, then go to sleep. A while later he started to shift more and more violently, and Robert hit play and set the remote down.

The man on screen made a few grunting noises in his sleep, his hand rubbing at his front where Robert could see on the screen there was something of a bump. Gasping himself lowly, he watched as the prisoner’s discomfort increased to the point where he woke.

Even on the fairly grainy image Robert could see the confusion and pain on his face and he let out a low sigh of satisfaction. The low grunts and groans were music to his ears and he savored every action his eyes greedily took in. Particularly when the pain became stronger and finally the Jew seemed to realize that in fact that was blood swelling to the head of his dick and he was in fact hard.

“Knew you were hot for sex you little slut…” Robert whispered vindictively to the man on the screen, unconcerned with the truth that he himself had drugged the prisoner to make it so. He drank in the warring looks of confusion, pain, dismay, need and resignation on the Jew’s face.

As he watched, Robert could see the moment the prisoner realized there was nothing for it and the sensations weren’t going to go away. Then, as he started to jerk himself off, Robert moaned loudly, jerking himself in time. He came to the sound of the Jew’s gasps and low grunts.

Transfixed, Robert watched him until he came. Then rewound the tape and watched again and again. _So needy…so fucking…_ Robert sighed and for the first time felt something almost akin to affection for the detestable murderer.

“You may be the lowest of scum, but you’re a needy little slut, boy…“ Robert spoke again to the screen as he rewound the tape for the fourth time. “And I will do my best to try and help you…once you learn your place.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spanish Fly is another name for Cantharidin, which irritates the genitals resulting in increased blood flow that can mimic the engorgement that occurs with sexual excitement. It is documented as being used since before 1000 AD as an aphrodisiac.


	4. Twice For The Show

Something was wrong.

The burning and itching sensation is not something Erik has ever felt before and he knows it is not natural. It isn’t the same feeling one has in reaction to an allergy. This is far more painful and far more…centrally located.

Glaring over at the camera suspiciously Erik wonders who is behind it. Whoever it is has to be the same person who ordered the installation of the camera, so they could watch the havoc their poisoning was having on him. Erik can only guess and what the actual poison itself was.

Other than having extremely painful itching and burning sensations, it seemed to be behind his intense _need_ to, well, masturbate. But even that didn’t really help. It relieved some of the pressure but he still ended up pissing blood. Was it just meant to torture him? If so the attacker choose a pretty poor poison to do so. Erik has seen and even experienced vastly superior ones.

Not that the reasoning behind it really mattered. It still left Erik unable to trust anything given to him, he had not eaten or drank more than a few bites in days. A few times he even thought the food tasted safe but did not trust his own sense of taste well enough to know better.

Still Erik did not understand it and with little else to do he thought about it constantly. _I recommit myself to the cause and a short time later there is a camera. Followed by poisoning. They can’t both just be coincidence, they can’t._

Of course it is entirely possible that some _other_ telepath, other than Emma or Charles, has been working with the CIA, but he should’ve felt something if that was the case. His first interactions with both Emma and Charles he had felt them strongly, it didn’t make sense to him how someone he didn’t even know could read him so well without him feeling a single thing.

_Unless of course it is someone I know…_

“FUCK!” Erik shouts abruptly, taking his full tray of mush and slamming it hard against the wall. Watching with a faint sense of satisfaction as the food splatters out, sticks somewhat to the walls and slides down while the tray crashes to the floor, he throws himself back onto his bed.

There is nothing for it. He _has_ to know what’s going on, or it’s going to drive him mad. One of his main promises to himself is to stay sane. He’s going to have to come up with something before he loses that battle.

Erik does not lose.

******

“Come on man, you scratch my back, I scratch yours, remember?”

“No way. No fucking way. You’re out of your mind.”

A smile that doesn‘t reach his eyes. “I’m sorry, what’s that? Are you saying you don’t want my help any more?”

A hard sigh. “No! No, look, you know I’m not saying that…”

“Really?” Robert asks, lifting an eyebrow. “Because from where I’m standing it sounds like you’re saying you’d like a little visit from our good friends at the MPD.”

“I don’t want any more pigs up my shit, Rob!” EJ snaps, pointing a finger into his chest, “And I might remind you that I have just as much shit on you as you’d have on me. I go down, I’m taking you with me.”

Sighing, Robert spoke slowly. As he knows he must do with those of low intelligence. “And that is why I have no interest in involving my coworkers.” He could see EJ physically relax and he went on. “I’m not trying to set up a sting, I’m just trying to get a little more product.”

EJ looked around Robert’s empty house nervously as though still expecting armed officers to jump out at him from every direction. “I know, and I like you Robby, I do, that’s why I came here in the first place. It’s all about trust, yeah? But that’s why I’m telling you, and you have to _trust_ me that they keep tabs on my shit, eyes are every where even on legal things.” Robert frowns at him and is about to speak before EJ quickly meets his eyes and asks, “What poor SOB are you using it on anyway?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“No reason!” EJ replies quickly before sighing.

“What?” Robert asks beginning to feel a twinge of impatience. If the dealer wasn’t going to hook him up with anything useful than he was just wasting his time.

“It’s just, you _know_ about that shit, right? About what it does to people?”

Rolling his eyes, Robert feels his annoyance growing. “No, I just figured it sounded exotic so I’d give it a try? Of course I know what it fucking does, do you take me for one of your doped up idiots? I’m not using it myself. Obviously.” And even if he did the fact he was asking for more should’ve told the drug dealer that he knew what it did. _Honestly, it’s a good thing his job doesn’t require much in the way of intelligence._

For some reason EJ was giving him a strange look, but before Robert could snap at him again he took a few steps back holding his hands up. “Alright, alright! Look, I was just asking, okay? Because it’s shit that only works on guys, and, well…it can really fuck ‘em up, even kill them. So, if it’s a dude you’re trying to make horny for…for some reason…”

“I am _not_ a fag.” Robert speaks softly but his tone is full of venom.

“Didn’t say you were, didn’t say you were!” EJ interrupts quickly. “Just saying, dude, if you’re trying to fuck this gu-person! This chick! Just…” Robert tries not to laugh as he watches EJ realize he doesn’t give a fuck what EJ thinks. “Just don’t delay too long, okay?” And with that the dealer stands, hands him a small portion of cocaine, and beats a quick exit.

Standing to lock the door after him, Robert turns the small baggie of powder over in his hand several times. _For an uneducated inbred Italian druggie, EJ does make a point…_ Robert thought as he heads to his bedroom, thoughts on a certain tape in his VCR.

He has been so careful. Maybe it is finally almost time.

******

“You’re new here, aren’t you?” Erik asks the first time he sees the ginger guard, staring over at him as he slides his food tray over.

He looks considerably younger than most of the guards at the Pentagon. Erik even guesses he is possibly younger than himself. _Not that that is a difficult feat anymore…_ Erik does not allow himself to become distracted by his time spent in prison and instead looks into the guard’s eyes which are, surprisingly, looking back into his own.

“Irish, are you?” Erik asks conversationally, taking in the clear blue eyes, red hair and large amount of freckles.

“I, well…yes.” The guard answers uncertainly. His name tag reads Flynn and Erik might have guessed as much.

Spreading his arms, Erik gestured to his small cell with a sardonic smile. “Welcome to my paradise.” Seemingly the guard had no reply to that other than to look around a little and shuffle a little away. “By all means, feel no need to stay…” Erik smiled in what he hoped was a winning way, waving him off. “See you again.”

As the guard rushed away Erik groaned to himself, turning to glare at the food, away from the camera. Some people were just far too timid. _I’m trying to build a camaraderie with you, not destroy you with my smile._

But then Erik had never been good with people. Much more the loner, always had been. Maybe if, well…maybe if life had been different, but it wasn’t and there was no point in wishing it was. _Maybe if I had a mirror I could try to smile in a less menacing way…_

Two days later Flynn returned with his food try and it wasn’t until after the kid had left that Erik realized there was something stuck to the bottom of the tray. To his amazement he discovered a page torn out of a newspaper. His heart races, hoping for news but alas it’s-

 _A crossword puzzle._ Erik stares at it for long minutes before breaking into the first genuine smile in years. Not because he is touched by the gesture or because he’d finally have something to stare at other than the wall.

But because he’s forming an attachment. With a guard. Who has a lot more to offer him than just crossword puzzles.

Still, he would be lying if he said he did not thoroughly enjoy having something else to think about for a while. He stared at it for hours, some of the clues were simple and easily filled in. Some of them were too recent for him to know. But that was perfect too. It would give him the perfect opening to casually ask about current events.

The next time Erik could hear footsteps approaching he turned with a large smile that quickly dropped when he saw that it wasn’t Flynn with his food tray. Disappointed, Erik turned away from the guard and dropped back onto his ‘bed’. _Perhaps tomorrow then…_ he thought as he closed his eyes.

“Aw, disappointed are you? Were you expecting someone else?” A long pause in which Erik continued to ignore the guard. “Well? No answer? Not even going to look at me when I’m talking to you?”

 _Obviously not._ Erik thought, just about to turn on his side when he heard the sound of his seldom used door opening. Eyes shooting open, he sits up quickly. Guards who brought food didn’t usually have keys to super maximum security prison cells.

“Well that got your attention, didn’t it?” The guard smiled at him and although it was friendly enough it sent an unpleasant shiver down Erik’s spine. Quickly, he sizes the man up. _Average height, muscular build, obviously works out. Blonde hair, brown eyes - uniform with several bars, certainly not just a food bringer then._

“Who are you?” Erik asks cautiously, unable to stop himself from sneering as he gets to his feet, not liking the feeling of the man standing over him. While he has lost a bit of weight and muscle tone himself, he is still tall, taller than this man. Now it is he who looks slightly down on the man as he lifts his chin, “And what are you doing here, in my cell? No one is allowed, not even guards.”

“Yes, I know.” The man says almost softly but Erik doesn’t like the gleam in his eyes. “I’m not an ordinary guard, Eriiiik.” 

Erik involuntarily shudders at the way he says his name, eyes darting to the name tag. _Kaufmann. Kaufmann…am I meant to know that name?_ “Who are you?” he asks again, a little more forcefully this time.

This brings a smile from the strange man. “You, my dear, will know me as many things before we’re through, but for now, you may call me Robert.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to my apparent inability to stop the plot bunnies this has grown even more than I planned. Instead of simply having an _extremely_ long story I've broken it up into a series. I swear there will eventually be Cherik.


	5. Setting The Trap

When Robert agreed to work tonight for one of his coworkers he hadn’t imagined that tonight would be _the_ night. Not only had the guard scheduled to bring the murderer his food that night called in sick but as did two other men. As short staffed as they were, the higher ups had practically begged him to take the shift. He had actually been planning on going out to dinner with a charming young waitress he had met the week prior, but fate it seems had other plans for him.

After all it could hardly be said that he had planned this when he wasn’t even meant to be working. And he hadn’t even _intended_ to say anything to him. But the way he was looking at him when he first arrived had taken him by surprise. He had eagerness on his face the likes of which Robert had only dreamed about. To see that expression replaced so quickly…Robert couldn’t help but make his presence known.

And so he taunts him, but gently, almost teasingly. The man - murderer, Jew - should have been flattered by his words, but instead he rolls his eyes and waves his hand dismissively.

“Right, Robert. Charmed, I’m sure. But as you can see, I am _very_ busy...” Robert did not care much for his insolence as he trailed off and nodded pointedly to the door.

Still, it’s not unexpected and Robert lets out a low breath. “No, I don’t think you are busy. And even if you were, you will make the time for me, Erik. My boy.” He speaks slowly, his tone showing he will brook no argument.

Evidently the prisoner didn’t pick up on that. Robert watches him stand taller and take a step toward him forcefully. “No, I won’t. You think you can intimidate me? Get your rocks off taunting the caged man who hasn’t seen the light of day in years? I don’t care who you are, what you want, or what you think.” By now he has come so close to Robert their noses are almost touching as his eyes narrow and his lip curls. “Get the fuck out of my cell. Now.”

It’s a close thing but Robert manages to hold onto the wave of rage that crashes over him at his words. His hands ball into fists at his side, shaking slightly with how very much he would like to hurt the man in front of him. Let his fists fly and slam him into the wall, bash his head against it until he sees stars, pin him there with the weight of his own body and-

_Breathe, just breathe. You’re fine, but you can’t do that now. The camera…the other guards will expect you back, you haven’t talked to them about it. You can’t lose control like that, not again._

Taking pride in his own self control, Robert studies Erik, his own teeth still clenched, hands still balled into fists. “You have no idea who I am, do you?” He questions him, shaking his head slightly, glare losing none of its venom. “Clearly you must not have very good survivor instincts to talk to me like that.”

“No, you just do not scare or intimidate me.” Erik replies quickly, not backing down. “Let me guess, you’re the one who has been poisoning me?” Robert’s surprise must have shown on his face for Erik sneered before he went on. “Right. Fucker.“ 

_He hasn’t changed at all…_ Robert realized with an odd thrill mixed with disappointment. _I can’t spare the rod after all…but not here, not now…the camera…other guards._ Through sheer force of will developed over the past months, Robert turned to head for the door.

That wasn’t good enough for Erik.

Surprisingly strong hands grabbed him by the shoulder and threw him hard against the wall and in another instant Erik was on him, snarling. “You can tell whoever ordered you to do that that it’s not working. I caught on, and I’m not some lab rat for you to do with what you please. I _won’t_ stand for it.”

Feeling his resolve crumble around him, Robert kicked back hard away from the wall, forcing Erik off of him. Before he could take another step towards him, more guards flooded the room, three of them rushing to restrain Erik while a forth patted him on the back.

“Fuck Rob we came as soon as we saw the feed, are you okay?”

Gasping for breath, overacting the possible damage Erik had done, Robert groaned and shook his head. “I’m…I’m fine. He is like a rabid dog, came in to help…to talk about the goodness of Jesus Christ and he lost it.”

Though it seemed he wasn’t fighting now. Robert chanced a glance over at the prisoner to see he was still as the guards had cuffed one of his arms to a wooden bar on his cot.

It had been too close a call for Robert but thankfully the Jew was weaker than him and snapped. Which would work out to his advantage, especially as he himself was now the victim. _It will work out for you too in the end, my Erik, you need my help more than I thought…_ he thought as he glanced back one last time before leaving the cell the other guards chattering away beside him.

Forcing back a smile, Robert had to admit the chained up look suited him.

******

Erik doesn’t know what had gotten into him.

Plenty of guards during his time in prison had goaded him. Plenty more during his childhood had said much worse things - nasty, degrading things. But he hadn’t lost it like that at them before. So what was it about this man? What was it about the way he had called him ‘my boy’ and ‘my dear’ that made the hair on the back of Erik’s neck stand on end.

_Maybe it had been too long, I got used to nicer guards…_ he thinks to himself, tugging uselessly on his handcuff. It wasn’t really that bad, he was just cuffed to his bed, something that didn’t restrict his movements much more than they already were. It was more just the fact he’d lost his composure that had bothered him.

Some part of him knew it was unfair but he couldn’t help but blame Charles for all of it. The telepath had made it seem like being able to feel emotions again was a good thing, so Erik had done so. It had lead to some incredible times when they were together, the joy he found in conversation and debate, the simple back and forth…the way Charles would smile at him with those perfect red lips as though he was the only one in the world.

But that time of his life was so incredibly short. Now he was back to reality, away from Charles and seemingly that was how the rest of his life would be.

If that was to be he wanted, needed, that control back. The problem was…it wasn’t _really_ Charles’ fault. True, Charles had helped him to feel good and happy, for a time, but before that time he hadn’t been in control. He had been a hurricane of rage and revenge, destroying everything in his path.

It had been a good thing at the time, but rage was no more helpful than joy was in his current situation. After all it had been rage that caused him to foolishly attack an armed guard with his bare hand while in his prison cell. _And I didn’t even go for the gun…_

Sighing, Erik tried to shift into a slightly more comfortable position.

As much as he tried not to think about it, he saw the guard’s face every time he closed his eyes. It wasn’t helping him to let go of his emotions when it caused goose bumps to race across his skin at the mere memory of those cold eyes.

The real problem, if Erik was honest with himself, was what he had seen in those eyes. It wasn’t the disdain, anger or disgust. If anything, Erik would be happy to be dealing with that, at least that was familiar territory. No, this was…something else. Something he didn’t recognize. But Erik knew enough to trust his instincts.

And he had a very strong feeling that this was one person he did not want to get to know better.

******

“Glad you could make it out tonight, Robby I know this really isn’t your scene.”

_That is an understatement…_ Robert thinks to himself but gives Nathan a smile anyway. “Thank you for inviting me, I appreciate it.” Looking around the dive bar, he shifts a little closer to him. “I could use the distraction after what happened earlier today.”

In truth Robert had only agreed to go out with his coworkers after work in hopes he could talk to them about what had happened today. It had taken hours, quite a lot of beer and some awful karaoke but it seems the conversation was finally going to turn the way he wanted it to.

“Yeah, you’re telling me, I can’t believe the fucker did that to you, just like that. Dude must really be fucked in the head, thinking he can get away with acting like that to a guard when he’s in jail!” Nathan sounded disgusted which was a good sign. “No respect anymore, I tell you! No respect for the badge from anyone, can’t even get prisoners to listen to us.”

“Yes, I agree.” Robert replied, choosing his words carefully. “But then, I can see what led him to think he can do what he likes and get away with it…he basically has.” Sparing a quick look at their 3rd companion, Robert was pleased to see he was passed out on the table before them. 

_Good, fucking Jew sympathizer…_ “I mean think about it…” Robert continued out loud. “We take the scum off the streets to lock him away from the public but does that really hold him accountable for his crimes? He killed the President of the United States and then gets treated with kid gloves because we’re too concerned about _his_ rights?”

Robert knows he’s walking a fine line here and he has a reputation as a holy man to protect so when he pauses and Nathan does not reply he continues on. “Don’t get me wrong, I am in favor of forgiveness for sins, but we need to be repentant in order to be forgiven. We need to be told, shown, that we are wrong, corrected, and placed on the right path.”

Robert checks to make sure that Nathan is even paying attention, but he his nodding at his words and his eyes don’t seem to be too glassy so Robert continues. “I just feel like…like he isn’t paying any price for what he’s done. He’s a German Jew with no family…for all we know he _likes_ it here really, has to be better than sleeping with the pigs for warmth. And we’re not even allowed to go in to talk to him about God without him freaking out?”

Sighing, Robert shakes his head, allowing the conversation to trail off. They are reaching a pivotal point and he needs to make absolutely sure where Nathan stands on it before he goes on. Or if he’s even paying attention.

Starting to believe this night was a lost cause, Robert stands and signals over a waitress when Nathan makes a groaning kind of sigh, shaking his head. “Man…you, you’re right, Robby. I’m trying to think about it, if there’s something we can do about it, but there really isn’t, you know? He basically has free reign and he’s the one who is a murderer and we can’t even talk to him? It’s such fucking bullshit and we all know it.”

_Bingo._ Robert thinks to himself, hiding a smile. Pulling out his wallet he pays the waitress, tossing her a wink before turning back to Nathan. Before he can speak however, the other man continues. “It’s like last time, you know? We all heard about it, what happened with you and the Kennedy killer. But the good man was punished for it and the prisoner hasn’t changed, makes me sick like, we should be able to do more. And the way he just fucking smirks, sometimes I wish I could just rip his fucking head off and-”

“Violence begets violence.” Robert interjects calmly, cutting Nathan’s words off at the quick. Although he likes them and wholeheartedly agrees with them there is no need for Nathan to know that. Besides, Erik is _Robert’s_ to punish and no other guard is going to ruin that.

Sighing Nathan groans again. “Yeah yeah, but sometimes don’t you just want to…aw shit, never mind. You’re a man of God, of course you don’t, sorry about that Robby.”

“It’s okay…” Robert smiles thinly, “I do understand, you know, I do. I am only a mere mortal myself, I’m not perfect.” _Though I’d be a lot closer if it wasn’t for Erik Erik Erik and his eyes, mouth, lips, legs, ass, oh that ass…_

Maybe he had had too much to drink himself. Shaking his head he goes on, “I just think…if I could have some time alone with him, it could do both of us a world of good.”

Nathan looks at him as though he’d grown another three heads. “Are you fucking kidding me, Robby? After what happened today?”

“Of course he’d have to be well restrained…” Robert went on with an unpleasant smile, remembering the cuff around his wrist. “No metal, obviously. But if I could just have a few hours with him…I really feel like I could reach him. I could change him. At the very least I could try and make him see what he’s done, maybe set him on the path of redemption.”

Nathan did not look entirely convinced but he didn’t need to be. He just needed to trust Robert enough to leave him alone with Erik, no other supervision, for a few hours.

_Yes, and this time it will be planned, down to the last detail._ Robert promised himself, knowing he had the rest of the night to argue his plan to Nathan.

_Next time I see him face to face, I’m not letting him go until I have everything I want from him._


	6. Mercy For The Weak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heed warnings for this chapter.

For someone who so deeply craved to be in control of his emotions, Erik was doing a piss poor job of it. 

Even though it has been a few weeks, if Erik’s calculations are accurate, since his interaction with the one who had been poisoning him, he has been unable to shake the incident from his mind. Although he had only remained cuffed to his bed for a few days and then released, he couldn’t shake a feeling of impending doom. The fact that the guards seemed to be even more cordial with him than usual did not help. If anything it just felt like the calm before the storm.

 _Or maybe I’m finally starting to lose it…_ Erik thinks to himself as he sits on the cold hard floor of his cell, attempting for the 10th time that day to meditate. It was impossible to have a calm spirit with his mind racing - his frustration fueling it further as he feels himself regressing to only the faintest sense of metal when it had been growing before.

Maybe that was part of the problem. His metal sense had been able to center and focus his rage to a fine point where it could then be used as a tool. Without it, without _any_ outlet for his rage and frustration it grew until he honestly couldn’t remember what it felt like to not be angry. Maybe his anger was finding its way out in the form of paranoia - insanity.

 _No. No, I am not insane._ Erik told himself, holding in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. _Anyone would feel rage as I do in my position. Kept here like this, I almost envy them, at least they went out in a blaze of glory…_

Though as soon as he had the thought he regretted it. Flynn continued to slip him crossword puzzles and sometimes more. Erik wasn’t sure if it was intentional or not, but the ginger had brought him news of mutant deaths. The most recent was Emma.

 _They even could get to a telepath…_ Erik’s heart suddenly, irrationally, twists in fear for Charles. If they could get to Emma… _No, Charles is far stronger than she ever was._ Erik comforts himself before reminding himself, _More likely it is that he would have helped to bring her down, if he’s still with the government…it can’t get any more anti-mutant than that…_

Sighing, Erik squeezes his eyes shuts and rubs his forehead. That wasn’t fair and he knew it. No matter what depths his paranoia sank, he did not and _could_ not believe Charles would do that. He knew him too well for that. Charles wouldn’t want to hurt anyone regardless of what they do to him. _That was part of the problem…_

Not for the first time Erik feels an all consuming sense of loss and regret. Whatever Charles may think of him, Erik regretted what happened on the beach the last time they saw each other.

What he had done to Shaw - no. That he did not regret. But he regretted shutting Charles out. He regretted the _fact_ that he had to. No matter how much he…he loved Charles, he needed his resolve more and there had been no way he could have done what needed to be done with Charles’ voice in his ear.

But he regretted the missiles. He regretted the fight after, how badly he had wanted control, how he had had to literally fight Charles for it. He regretted that Moira was even there, she had no business there. She may have been CIA, but Erik never had been. Charles shouldn’t have been. It should have been the two of them against the world.

If it had been, there would have been no need for them to part. No need to regret the bullets he deflected, the bullet that hit Charles. Somehow, some way, they could have worked things out, he knows they could have. But the moment he was finally able to tell Charles in his arms, to tell him how much he wanted him by his side - it had been too late. Most of all he regretted not saying those things sooner. Maybe if he had-

 _Nothing would have been different._ Erik reminds himself harshly, wishing there was a way to escape his thoughts. _You would have made a fool of yourself in front of the straight man that you love and he would have pitied you for it. And things would have gone exactly the same as they did. If not worse. There is no point in dwelling on it now._

Erik knew it to be true, all of it, and he wished above all else he would stop thinking about it all, about Charles. He wanted to mourn his brothers and sisters, but he could not do so without thinking about Charles. And thinking about Charles brought all the intense horrid emotions right back out again.

 _Charles, Charles, my Charles…_ Erik projects in his mind as loudly as he can. Though he knows it is useless - knows it has been years since he felt even the slightest hint of the man in his mind - he can not help it. _If only I knew…what you think, what you are, what you’ve done. If only I could explain. If you could explain…_

_Did you even help them at all? Would you believe me? Would you even want to help me if you did? Or do you still despise me as much now as you did then?_

As he expects, Erik receives no reply.

******

Robert is not one to spend his time idly, and he is very very good at planning.

 _I have had to be, not by choice…_ he thinks with a low sigh as he watches the restless prisoner on the screen. Erik has been so intriguing lately - even more so than usual. Robert’s ploy of letting up on him seems to have worked, the man almost seemed ready to come out of his skin.

Not that one could tell that just by looking at him. Any ordinary man looking on would simply see a skinny nobody Jewish prisoner sitting on the floor serenely. But Robert had studied this particular skinny nobody for years. Well long enough to see the tension in his body, even on the small video screen, and the way his jaw tightens and his hands are fists in his lap.

No, Erik is certainly not a man at peace.

 _And how could he be?_ Robert thinks to himself, _With everything he is, everything he’s done, even I am not at peace with how I think about him - I imagine he is no more at peace with himself._ Somewhere deep down, Robert was fairly certain that the Jew boy knew right from wrong. He had a conscience. Even as a worthless Jew he seemed intelligent enough to know better, to know what a horrible person he was.

 _But it’s not too late…Christ can redeem anyone…_ Robert thought to himself, trying to shove down his own disbelief. His own faith was not unshakeable and if he had ever met anyone less deserving of forgiveness, it would have to be Erik Lehnsherr. 

Not just for the horrid and evil sins he has committed, but for the sins he has led others to. _It takes true evil to damn not only yourself but others…_ Robert thinks to himself, biting his lip a little as he continues to watch Erik. 

_I will not allow you to drag me down with you. I can see how much you want it, I have seen it over and over…_ Robert remembers each and every moment of Erik pleasuring himself. He has seen it so often that he does not need the tape to run it all perfectly through his mind. _But I will turn it into something you will not recognize. I will take the fall myself, I know God will forgive me for my intentions are pure…_ Robert knew this absolutely to be true. _With his blessing, I seek to train and to teach you so that even a wretch such as you can be turned to the light._

Robert could barely contain his desire to…do the Lords work. So when the day finally came when all his chips fell in to place, he welcomed it with open arms.

******

“What the hell are you- this again?” Even from down the hall Robert can hear Erik’s voice full of disgust. “You guys really fucking need a better hobby, I’m not here for your amusement.”

“No, you are not.” Robert agrees as he enters the cell. He does not miss the way Erik’s eyes quickly find him and he gives him a smile. “You seem to forget that you are not here for your own amusement either.”

Robert allows Erik to process those words as he watches the guards tighten the polyurethane based cuffs tightly around both his wrists to the wooden bars of his bed. Amused at how Erik is not fighting back, Robert smiles as the guards add extra cuffs to his upper thighs and his ankles. Looking over Erik’s face, Robert lifts an eyebrow.

“You really think this is new to me?” Erik questions, obviously interpreting Robert’s stare. “I’ve been a lab rat many times before…” he closes his eyes and lets out a low breath. “Torture away, while you can…”

It is only the barest hint of a threat under his words but it’s enough for one of his coworkers to cuff Erik sharply upside his head. Seeing how that caused Erik to smile, Robert moves forward and pulls the guard back before he can level another blow. “No,” he speaks to Nathan lowly, “That is not why I’m here. Please leave, now, as I said we are not to be disturbed.”

Nathan looks at him before back to Erik before nodding slowly. “Right. Just don’t forget. I’m a pager call away.”

Robert’s eyes flash but before he can reprimand Nathan, Erik cuts him off with a laugh. “Funny. How scared you are of the defenseless mutant tied to his bed. You must know how this will eventually end.”

Nathan takes a half step towards Erik again and Robert tugs on his arm again. “Don’t. Just leave, now, it’s for the best.” Still looking unsure about it, Nathan begrudgingly nods. Sending Erik a nasty look, he leaves the cell door, shutting it firmly behind him.

Silence passes between them for several moments before Erik sighs and opens his eyes, looking over at him. Robert is leaning against a wall with his arms folded in front of his chest, eyes drinking in the sight of the man before him. It’s almost surreal to see him again up close and in person. After seeing his small image on a grainy television so many times, his pictures in the newspaper…actually just being in the same room as him is something of a thrill. 

“You’re a pretty shitty torturer, you know.” Erik ruins the moment by speaking, that sneer back on his face. “You didn’t even bring anything with you? Amateur.” Robert, by now, knows a goad when he hears one and he remains impassive as Erik stares at him for a time before shutting his eyes again.

“You should not close your eyes.” Robert tells him.

“And why is that?” Erik replies, almost bored, his eyes still shut.

“They are too pretty when open.” Robert tells him, smiling as Erik’s eyes shoot open to stare at him again. “See? Much better, isn’t it?” For once Robert seems to have made him speechless. _A vast improvement at that…_ Letting out a low chuckle, he pushes away from the wall to stand in front of the other man. “I am not here to torture you.”

Still Erik does not seem to have a reply to that, those sharp steely eyes simply staring at him. That is all well and good, Robert takes his silence as compliance - he has kept his eyes open after all. Sitting down on the end of the bed, Robert lets out a low sigh, maintaining eye contact with him. “Would you like to know why I’m here?”

Several moments pass in silence, causing Robert to laugh softly. “Really, Erik, I never took you for the blushing virgin type.”

 _That_ seems to have shaken Erik out of his stunned silence as he snaps, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Nor do I want to know what you’re talking about. I don’t care what you want or what you’re here for, you’re not getting anything from me so just fuck off.” With that he resolutely closes his eyes, though Robert does not miss the way his breathing as sped up.

 _I’m sure if I took your pulse now, it would be racing…_ Robert smiles more at him, _So eager, you are, you must be after so long. So proud, but so hot for it, you’re shaking for it, you know where this is going…_

Robert shifts closer to Erik, resting a hand on his cuffed ankle, sliding the tips of his fingers under his pants leg to feel the skin beneath. Though the touch is soft and gentle, Erik jerks hard in reaction, his entire body pulling as far away as he can…which is not very, only a mere inch and a half.

“Don’t. Touch. Me.”

The words are bitten out, but Robert does not buy the venom. Mostly it’s the fear he can sense, it’s practically radiating off of Erik and it causes Robert to smile hugely.

“Oh but you are such a blushing virgin, Erik, my boy…” he rubs his hand higher, ignoring the muscles tensing beneath his touch. Sliding his hand back out just as quickly he leans more fully over Erik and undoes the zipper on his pants, pulling them down as well much as the cuffs allow him too, enough to reach in and grab Erik’s penis, pulling it out of his pants.

“I told you, don’t fucking touch me!” Erik’s voice his now higher, a note of panic laced with the anger. “I’m not gay like you, I don’t want you, stop it, now!”

His own anger spiking, Robert lifts a hand and smacks Erik as hard as he can across the face. “I am _not_ a fag.” Erik opens his mouth to reply and Robert quickly covers his mouth with his hand, pressing down hard with his palm, squeezing Erik’s cheek into his mouth to stop him from trying to bite at him.

“I’ve seen you, you were right that it was I who installed the camera and spiked your food, but that is all. It is your fucking body that knew it was on display for me. It’s your fucking body that is so hungry for cock that you wiggle and writhe for me, trying to draw me in. I see you, night after night, see you in the video, you’re aching for it so hard, the need in your eyes. I fucking pity the shit out of you, born a Jew and a fag, all you fucking need is some cock up your ass and cum inside to make you feel full and warm, you’ve never had it, just know how badly you want it, need it, got to have it…”

Robert is panting by the end of his words so incredibly hard himself by this point his dick feels like a long hard rock between his legs. A rock that is throbbing hard in time with his own words and memories of Erik.

At that moment, Robert becomes hyper aware of Erik’s warm body pressed tightly below him. Shifting, Robert moans in the back of his throat as his erection hits against his thigh, loving the pressure and sensation but needing more. Squeezing Erik’s mostly limp penis harder in his hand, Robert jerks roughly, causing the prisoner to groan - to moan, beneath him.

“Luckily…for you…I can…bring salvation…” Robert pants as he moves his hand away and up to tug hard on Erik’s short hair, loving the way it causes Erik’s head to jerk hard back, exposing his pale neck. 

“You are so fucking beautiful like this, my Erik, and I will help you, I promise.” Robert claims before bending down to bite and suck at the soft skin beneath him.


End file.
